Glass Slippers
by X-Rage
Summary: She thought that "It might be painful to walk in these glass slippers, but that is the price for wearing the mantle of a Devil King." Negotiating her new existence among people who used to look down on her might be harder than killing a god. Campione!OC


Summary: She took upon the mantle of a Devil King, but attempting to negotiate her existence among people who used to look down upon her might be harder than killing a God. Campione!OC

Disclaimer: I do not own Campione. Information about the Gods and such came from Wikipedia, I have never been to Ireland, and English is not my native language. Enjoy!

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"Hand over my _Grimoire_!" He roared.

She ran without looking back.

Behind her, she heard the screams of fear and pain as _he_ killed mercilessly. Elsewhere, Divine Beasts rampaged and where they went, no one survived either. There were pockets of resistance littered around the small town, mages who banded together trying to hold off the Divine Beasts to little avail.

No one tried to stand up to _him_, however.

This girl had lived sixteen years in the world of magic, had known about _their_ existence and the absolute power _they_ held. None of that knowledge had prepared her for the horror that was a _Heretic God_.

Having made a loud entrance into the world, many had expected a Campione – that feared and incomprehensible existence of a godslayer – to appear and slay _him_ before he could cause further destruction.

Yet two days later, _he_ continued his rampage across the lands, eventually reaching this small Irish town.

He had appeared less than 10 minutes ago, but much of the town was already destroyed. Casualties ranged in the hundreds, and she was about eighty percent certain that the old wise man she had came here specifically to visit had already been killed.

She refused to cry at the thought, and continued running away from the destruction happening behind her, heading straight into the forests. If she wanted to make a successful escape from _him_, she could only try to hide in the forests, something she _knew_ was nothing more than a futile attempt because of the heavy stone tablet that knocked into her back every step she ran.

The old man had pressed it into her hands with an ashen face when _he _first appeared, and told her, "You have to keep it out of his hands!" and shoved her out the door.

She hadn't seen his last stand against that God, but she heard his screams.

And now that God was chasing after _her_.

And any luck she had ran out.

Ahead flowed a river, and she screamed as she came to a stop at the river bank, a scream of desperation and frustration, and that was when the Heretic God caught up with her. Furious, he shook with that burning anger and _**roared**_ at her.

She fell back into the river in fear, and lay there staring at the God who wore a plumed headpiece, holding a curved baton and a feathered shield. His eyes were filled with mad fury but also triumph from finally reaching his goal. "My Grimoire, you pathetic little girl. Hand it over now." Her hands floundered in the water to grab at her thoroughly soaked bag, clutching the stone tablet in it to her chest, but _he_ reached out with that curved baton and ripped the bag from her arms.

The name of this Heretic God is Cē Ācatl Topiltzin. In the 10th century, he was the Lord of the Toltecs and worshipped by his followers until he became a mythologized figure in Nahua historical traditions. His followers had regarded him as a god upon earth who shared similar traits to his divine namesake.

His namesake had remained separate from his legend, however, until later generations conflated them together. Even then, the legend of Cē Ācatl Topiltzin was more often subsumed under that of his divine namesake, and the greater God experienced little change to his identity.

Centuries ago when he first emerged from his myth, he was known as that greater God and delighted in that existence. Until he had been tricked into sealing a part of his power into a Grimoire, taking upon this reduced identity and slayed to return him to his legend.

He had re-emerged from that myth filled with anger and wanting nothing more than to find his Grimoire and return to his true divine identity, and here it was in his hands once again. He upended the bag and its contents, catching his Grimoire as it fell. The bag and its contents splashed into the slow-moving river, and he burst out in triumphant laughter as he regarded his grimoire. "In the end, it is my victory!" He slammed the grimoire against his shield and it immediately shattered into pieces, the divine power trapped within the Grimoire bursting forth to return to him.

The magnificent (but terrifying) sight of a God regaining his true form was all but ignored by her, however. Instead, her eyes were fixed upon two of the things that had fell out of her bag and into the river, drifting lazily before her.

The bright light from Cē Ācatl Topiltzin's transformation blinded her, but by then she had fixed the image of those two objects firmly in her mind, and her hands reached out to grasp them with unerring accuracy.

In her left hand was a pocket watch, one she spent two painstaking weeks finding and then modifying, inscribing intricate runes that interlocked and would theoretically allow her to create a miracle, a type of magic beyond any previously conceived. It was the culmination of two years of hard work and mind-numbing research, and the reason why she came to find the old man.

In her right hand was a thick branch from a hazel tree, a gift from the old wise man. She came to this Irish town to seek his advice regarding her pocket watch, and he had helped her as best as he could before handing her the branch saying "The hazel tree is a tree of wisdom and inspiration. Perhaps it can help you find your way." She took it, thanked him and forgot about it until now.

When the light around Cē Ācatl Topiltzin died, his outer appearance had not changed much though his baton and shield were gone. The presence he held had changed, however, every pore of his skin was infused with divine power, and he roared triumphantly his existence to the world, "_**I am Quetzalcoatl!**_"

The next moment, a hazel branch piercing through his chest cut off his triumph, and he felt the blood rushing up his throat and drooling out of his mouth. Stunned, he could only stare at the pathetic girl who had surged up from the river. It was impossible. How could this branch have hurt him? He was _**Quetzalcoatl**_, one of the most important gods in the Aztec pantheon, one of the greatest gods that had ever live! He was _**Kukulkan**_, _**Q'uq'umatz**_, and _**Tohil**_, the fi-

From the hazel branch hung her pocket watch, and she shoved the branch deeper in, whispering her conviction, "_**Die**_."

She had created the pocket watch to be the portable site of a magical ritual, with all the essentials and intricate details of it compressed into a tiny rune circle 8cm in diameter. The magical ritual was based on the fairy tale of Cinderella, specifically the moment when the clock struck twelve and all magic cast upon Cinderella stopped working. The ritual was meant to emulate that and create an anti-magic field that would serve as an ultimate protection, but had failed when she submitted it for testing last month. It could have been called an 'expected result' as the magical theory of a 'world consciousness' she had based the creation of the pocket watch on had never been proven.

At this point in front of this God, however, the presence of the branch from a hazel tree was crucial. Celts believed that the hazel tree was a source of wisdom and inspiration, a belief formed from an ancient tale involving hazelnuts falling into a sacred river. When the wet branch floated in front of her, she was momentarily struck with an **Idea**_**. **_It was as if every single calculation she ever made regarding the ritual in the pocket watch merged together in one seamless equation, and she _understood_ everything about it.

In some deep corner of her mind, she recalled an older version of the Cinderella fairy tale where Cinderella had requested a twig from her father as a gift. That twig came from a hazel bush, and she had planted the twig in the ground and watched it grow into a handsome hazel tree. The story of Cinderella gained an even stronger affirmation with the presence of the hazel branch, but it was Quetzalcoatl's identity as a god with the body of a feathered serpent that sealed his fate.

In another fairy tale called the "The Hazel Branch", there was a remark that hazel branches offered the greatest protection from snakes and other things that crept on the earth.

The hazel branch and the pocket watch was the ultimate realization of the story of Cinderella twisted and distorted to suit the needs of its creator, a process similar to how old tales are frequently rewritten and changed by authors. And as a further twist in the story, the hazel tree in older tales of Cinderella had been where Cinderella's wishes were always granted.

Beyond all this, there were at least five more layers of higher magical academic thinking that allowed an _**anti-Divinity **_weapon to be spontaneously created and dictated her absolute victory.

But none of that mattered to Quetzalcoatl, who only understood that a branch through his chest had killed him.

His last word was an anguished scream.

"**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"**

* * *

**Excerpt from the Italian mage Alberto Ricardo's Book, **_**Demon King**_**, 19th Century**

...To those who accomplished this formidable feat, I grant them the title of **Campione – Godslayer – **.

Among all virtuous readers, some will probably believe that I over-exaggerate with that title and frown, while others will think that I am making undue fuss over it.

However, I want to emphasize it, once again.

Campione – Godslayer – is the supreme ruler.

Since he can kill a celestial being, he can therefore call on the highly divine powers held by the gods.

Campione – Godslayer – is a lord.

Since the power to kill a deity is in their hands, they therefore have the power to dominate the mortals on Earth.

Campione – Godslayer – is a devil.

Therefore of the entire humanity living on earth, those who have the power to oppose them do not exist!

**Excerpt from a draft of the paper "World Consciousness – The Theoretical Possibility of a Collective Memory of Humanity" by Elena Poheir**

Should a collective memory of humanity exist, tapping upon this enormous resource will allow mages to carry out numerous magical feats previously thought to be impossible. A possible manner this could be carried out is through taking advantage of what this collective memory believes to be true or would naturally expect in a given situation.

For example, the fairy tale of Cinderella is widely known. The most common form of this fairy tale contains elements of a fairy godmother whose spells will fail at the stroke of midnight. As millions of humans around the world know this story well, the theory of a world consciousness indicates that the collective memory of humanity would also possess intimate knowledge of this story.

Therefore, should the story of Cinderella be enacted upon Earth, the collective memory would know and expect Cinderella's magic to fail at the stroke of midnight. The power of this incredible belief could be tapped upon to ensure the story flows as expected and enforce an anti-magic quality onto the world accordingly.

**Excerpt from Irish Reports Concerning the Verification of the new Campione, Beginning of the 21****st**** Century**

Quetzalcoatl is a Mesoamerican deity commonly regarded to possess the body of a feathered serpent, and holds several different names in different cultures. He is a god of many attributes, including light, justice, mercy and wind. He is also considered to be a god of the morning star, and sometimes a symbol of death and resurrection.

Quetzalcoatl's last emergence from his myth was before any organization began to keep detailed records regarding Heretic Gods. Nonetheless, some leftover accounts regarding him have been found. It is said that he was defeated by an unknown man approximately six centuries ago, and a part of his power was sealed in a grimoire. In his reduced form, Quetzalcoatl took upon the identity of Cē Ācatl Topiltzin, the 10th century ruler of the Toltecs.

Irish magicians passed down his grimoire until it reached Gearóid Mac Cogadháin.

It has been determined that the grimoire was shattered and Cē Ācatl Topiltzin regained his former divinity though Quetzalcoatl had yet to return to his true form.

It was after Elena Poheir killed the feathered serpent god, that she became a young Campione.

**[Report on Elena Poheir], Compilation by the Greenwich Assembly**

As mentioned in the document above, Elena Poheir has seized the power of the Mesoamerican deity Quetzalcoatl. The nature of the Authorities she has gained from him remains unknown. Further reports will be compiled in the future to rectify this.

Elena Poheir is a student of Heliante, a mage school based in Switzerland. While maintaining a respectable 'B-Rank' in theoretical subjects, she has consistently scored poorly in her practical subjects. Comments from her professors indicate that she is exceptionally talented in higher academic thinking, but is inconvenienced by her limitations in carrying out practical experiments.

With a poor record in practical magic, it is possible that Elena Poheir will find difficulty in mastering her Authorities and as such, cannot be considered at the same level as other Campiones.

However, please do not forget that this is only a possibility.

Regardless of her actual capabilities, her existence on this world is as a Campione. Even if she is unable to match her fellow Devil Kings, she is a **King** that cannot be compared to mere mortals and a **King **that cannot be easily manipulated.

It is the advice of this author that anyone attempting to make contact with her should remember this well.

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Author's Notes:

The person who slayed Quetzalcoatl six centuries ago did not become a godslayer as Pandora did not accept his victory as a 'true' victory. He had won through an incredible amount of trickery and deceit, and generally acted without honor. There was no way to address this in the story, so I thought I would just write it here.

Regarding the 'world consciousness', it is not a very important idea but some people might want to know exactly how the 'Cinderella anti-magic' spell worked so there you go. I'm pretty sure I didn't explain it well so feel free to skip over.

I hope you enjoyed that prologue, and please give me your constructive criticism. I felt that parts of the chapter didn't flow as well as it could have, so let me know what you think.

Thank you.


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